


Ophidian Dearest

by Hyperionova



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Forbidden Romance, Joavin, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 06:42:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9872021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyperionova/pseuds/Hyperionova
Summary: A collection of Kevin and Joaquin's scenes (both told and untold). Warning: The story is rated 'explicit' since I plan to write smut in future chapters if there is a need for it. I don't proofread, so pardon the minor mistakes.





	1. The Last Picture Show

The night would come to an unstimulating end, but with luck and some humour, perhaps the course of the night might not be uneventful—this is what Kevin has in mind when he shows up at the drive-in with Veronica, who is anything but insipid. Taking her distinct, rather interesting qualities into account, Kevin doubts that watching a movie with her would be too bad, especially since it is a proven fact that it is never a dull moment whenever the dark-haired girl is present. Of course, he’d rather be here with Betty, but he decides, barely halfway through the movie that Veronica isn’t half as bad.

Then the night opts to worsen for him when Cheryl shows up, her ginger hair cascading on one side, not a strand out of place. “Make some room, outcasts,” she demands with her nondescript expression and joins them without waiting for an invitation. With the incessant racket in the background caused by the intolerable group of Southside Serpents growing louder by the second and Cheryl’s mere existence on the back of the truck, Kevin’s blood begins to boil. He is here for Jughead’s sake, so he clenches his teeth and tries to pay attention to the movie.

“That hair,” he exhales heavily, not only enticed by James Dean’s hairdo, but it does not seem appropriate to comment on the actor’s other _charming_ features out in the open.

“That jacket,” Veronica mutters back before Cheryl decides to chime in.

“Jason always adored the drive-in,” the redhead sighs, much to Kevin’s dismay. He rolls his eyes before pinning Veronica with an impatient glower. The din of the Serpents’ raucousness continues to pound in his ears, shoving any remaining patience over the edge.

“Southside _trash_ ,” he spits, gritting his teeth.

Veronica heaves a sigh. “They’ve been doing that since the opening credits.”

The second he hears another string of insufferable noise, he sucks in a sharp breath and glances back at the gang to hiss at them to shut up. Though he isn’t particularly expecting any of those good-for-nothing dregs to listen, he pauses for a moment, catching the piercing gaze of a guy, who stares at him nonchalantly without any fuss. Like a predator locking its target on a prey. For some odd reason, Kevin finds it difficult to swallow suddenly.

He looks away, letting out a sigh of defeat. The lingering gaze of the ice-cold eyes do not escape his thoughts immediately and he fights the urge to take another look at the boy. But then Veronica shoots up to her full height, facing the source of the racket.

“Hey!” she yaps. “You know what happens to a snake when a Louboutin heel steps on it?! Shut the hell up, or you’ll find out.”

Kevin could not help the worry the spreads across his face as Veronica receives a round of applause for sticking it to the Serpents. Though it was rather cool. Really cool. Hell, Kevin is never telling her that.

“I cannot believe you just threatened a gangbanger,” Kevin says without any hint of awe in his voice.

“I’ve dealt worse in the East Village. I just hate when people disrespect my cinematic experience,” she tears the popcorn bucket away from Kevin and hands it to Cheryl. “How about a refill?”

With the fakest Cheshire grin Kevin has ever seen, Cheryl holds the bucket out to him again. “Yeah, Kev, how about a refill? Cherry cola, as always,” she coos.

The Devil must have eaten her soul, Kevin thinks as he jumps off the truck. Whatever, he needs a break from her and the Serpents, anyway.

“Can I get a refill?” he asks the blonde boy behind the counter and glances around before his desperate gaze lands on a couple of guys making out in a convertible. Well, that is a sight to sore eyes.

Kevin isn’t sure why he has been so unsuccessful in romance thus far in life. Oh right, he is one of the very few openly gay guys in Riverdale that pines for something serious, something more than just a few sloppy moments in the woods or behind the local diner, but somehow, that is all that he seems to manage to get. He has hit a new low, he realizes, unable to escape his train of thoughts. Hooking up once with Moose is one thing, but doing it over and over while the jock is still safe and sound inside his closet is another. Kevin isn’t after that. And he surely isn’t after boys like Moose. He does not want to be someone’s fling or a hand-in-need anymore. But maybe he isn’t cut out for that, not in this town at least.

Turning to face the blonde boy, he says, “And some gummy worms and a cola,” and briefly glances back to the couple before confronting the boy again. “And a hot dog.”

And he hits another low. He sighs. “Who am I trying to impress here,” he mutters to himself, shaking his head.

“We’re out of dogs,” the boy says lethargically and Kevin nods his head, his brows arched.

“Figures,” he gathers his order dejectedly and turns on his heel to head back to the truck, but he is stopped frozen in his tracks when he finds the icy blue-eyed guy from the gang only a foot away. A lump rises in his throat as the biker guy closes the distance between them, gazing so menacingly alarming, clad in a funny t-shirt and a rugged black jacket. His glorious black mane of unkempt hair has to be his second-best feature—first being his inescapable eyes. God, he has just met the dude and he is already debating on which feature of his takes top spot. Kevin really needs to rein it in sometimes, elsewise he knows he is going to get his heart broken.

There is a hint of smile on the guy’s full lips as he edges closer. “Not so tough without your beard, huh?” he says, his voice running deep like a low moan that Kevin would have shivered, if only he weren’t so worried of the thought of getting his teeth punched in a few moments. He wants to retort, say something clever and brave, but boy, do those eyes know how to shut someone up.

A small smirk then tugs at the guy’s lips and Kevin notices how his cold eyes drift into a kind gaze in a heartbeat. “Come on,” the guy says and grabs Kevin’s arm in a firm grip. Though Kevin is reluctant to move his feet at first, he is eventually dragged to the shadiest corner behind the building, where he is probably about to get his guts ripped out or something like that.

He swallows hard when the guy releases his arm and faces him with an expression as blank as a clean slate. Kevin starts to wonder what the hell he is doing here gawking at those mesmerizing eyes instead of running back to the truck, screaming for help. Well, he is sure he could at least land a punch or two, but he’d be in hot trouble if he harmed a Southside Serpent.

All air is knocked out of his lungs as he drops the popcorn, cola can, packet of gummy bears to the ground when he is slammed back against a wall. He almost braces himself for a jab to the face, but his ability to think straight fails him momentarily when he feels a pair of hot lips smash against his own.

With his heart hammering against his chest, Kevin reaches to fist the stranger’s jacket in a bunch, letting out an unconscious moan as the guy’s tongue lick the seam of his lips, demanding access, which he gives without putting up much of a fight. He isn’t sure of what’s happening, but he definitely isn’t complaining.

He drinks in the musky scent of the biker, burying his hands in the guy’s hair as the kiss deepens into a fiery hot, wet, hungry need for more contact. And God, the guy kisses like how he needs air to breathe. His hands fly up to clutch the sides of Kevin’s waist, earning himself a throaty moan from Kevin.

So much for relieving from the sloppy moments behind buildings, huh…

However, it isn’t anything like what Kevin had experienced before. First of all, he is making out with a crazy hot biker. Second of all, this guy is only kissing him and not pushing him to do anything else for his own pleasure. For the first time, Kevin _feels_ the difference between guys like Moose and guys like… whoever this biker dude is.

“I must go,” Kevin gasps when the stranger breaks the kiss to catch his breath. Their chests heave against one another, hands still lingering to touch each other’s skin. The guy nods his head and leans forward to press another kiss on his lips. Moaning into his mouth, Kevin cups the back of the guy’s neck with one hand and fists his hair with the other as he lets himself get slammed against the fence this time. God, at this rate, he is going to get harder and he might need the guy to do more than just kissing, which hardly seems appropriate for someone who wants to get away from such shenanigans.

He catches Kevin’s lower lip between his teeth, pulling it gently before releasing and sucking it, long enough to leave it throbbing. His thigh is pressed between Kevin’s legs as he continues to ravage Kevin’s lips, one of his hands snaking under Kevin’s shirt and caressing the side of his torso while the other is clinging onto the fence near Kevin’s head.

“Okay, okay,” Kevin rasps breathlessly against his lips, breaking the kiss for the second time, though he really does not want to. But he does not want Veronica to come looking for him. Definitely not. “This time I _really_ need to go.”

With a soft chuckle, the stranger kisses him again until Kevin is forced to push him back, just an inch. “I’m Joaquin, by the way,” the guy says, his gaze flitting from Kevin’s lips to his eyes.

Kevin helplessly smiles, still panting for air. “Give me your phone.” As Joaquin hands him his phone, Kevin fiercely punches in his number and name. “This is my number. Use it,” he says, slamming the phone against Joaquin’s chest.

He waits for Joaquin to check it and his heart sinks a bit when the blue eyes look up at him with something like an unpleasant surprise. “Kevin Kell… er… As-as-a-as in… Sheriff Keller?” he stammers disappointedly.

Kevin blinks. “Is that a problem?”

Joaquin hesitates for a moment and then lifts the sleeve of his jacket to reveal the snake tattoo on the inside of his forearm, the Serpent’s brand. Kevin’s stomach twists, not in the good way, and his chest tightens. “Is _this_ a problem?” Joaquin asks in a gentle tone. Maybe it is then when Kevin realizes he wants to be friends with Joaquin, no matter the risk.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” he says and lights up like a Christmas tree when Joaquin smiles and grabs the collar of Kevin’s jacket, pulling him into another feverous, but brief kiss. He withdraws and slips away from Joaquin, sucking on his tender lip, and when he glances back, Joaquin smirks at him, leaned against the fence with his hands in the pockets of his pants.

Something flutters inside Kevin as he walks away, already reminiscing the kiss as his fingers brush his swollen lips where the heat of Joaquin’s mouth still ghosts over.

God, he is so screwed.


	2. Chapter 2

The stillness of the night air in Riverdale has always been suffocating. Particularly tonight, the frigidness of the air causes his blood to pulse in his temples. The atmosphere feels deserted and Kevin has to count his steps to walk straight between the sharp intakes of breath. While he might not be completely plastered, the fact that he had gone clubbing with a Lodge would unequivocally put a disappointed frown on his father’s brows. Besides, needless to say, Kevin is not really in the best state of mind to explain the details of his outing to his father right now. He could just add this to his ever-growing list of things he must hide from his father at all costs. Speaking of which…

He fumbles with his phone after landing on the other side of the gate.

 **“Meet me?”** he sends Joaquin a clumsy text, wobbling to the backdoor. He blinks his eyes a couple of times to clear the blurry vision as he leans against the doorjamb. His phone buzzes.

**“Where?”**

The corners of his lips reflexively quirk up into a sheepish grin. **“My room.”**

**“Now?”**

**“Now.”**

**“Ok :)”**

A ferocious warmth spreads across Kevin’s chest at the thought of having Joaquin in his room, in his bed, preferably _out_ of his clothes. Over the past few weeks, they’ve gotten rather used to sneaking around, though they have done nothing more than make out. For some odd reason, Joaquin always stops Kevin before they could cross the irritating line of chastity. It often takes a skilful amount of coaxing and cajoling to get Joaquin to touch him beneath the shirt, but never beneath the pants.

Well, that must change tonight.

As he climbs up the ladder to his room, which he had moved before he left earlier to aid to his convenience, he tries to focus on his footing instead of Joaquin’s lips on his body. He has been with boys before, but none like Joaquin. The thrill of being with him itself is enough to drive Kevin to the brink. Exciting would be an understatement to describe the fire. It is also a little disheartening. He does not even want to think about what would happen if his father found out.

He spills into his room and knocks a book over the desk. “Shit,” he hisses out an expletive, picking himself up. When he manages to crawl to the bed, he stretches out on it with a heaving chest. A fire settles in his groin, deep-seated and galvanic. Sucking in a shaky breath, Kevin stares at the ceiling in the dark. The heat that wraps around him, a weight holds his head out while making it light-headed all at once. He could not escape the thought of Joaquin’s lips, his brilliant eyes, all piercing through Kevin’s skin, locating every sensitive spot there is.

The sound of his shallow breathing fills the darkness of the room. Kevin fists his hands around the sheets, silently clamouring for a modicum of control, but fails miserably. He slides a hand into his shirt and drags his digits along the flat planes of his stomach.

He jolts upright with a silent gasp when the unexpected thud on the floor has him jumping out of his skin. “Jesus, Joaquin,” he rasps with alarm. “You scared the living daylights out of me. How did you get here so fast?”

“Well, your text sounded urgent,” Joaquin says in that blatant tone of his, which never fails to send chills down Kevin’s spine. “I was already in the neighbourhood.” He climbs onto the bed and Kevin gives him an invitation by spreading his legs apart.

“That’s convenient indeed,” Kevin purrs, reclining as Joaquin leans closer. Kevin almost wishes the lights are turned on so that he could get lost in Joaquin’s icy cold eyes that always seem to soften for him.

Joaquin seizes Kevin’s lips in a languid, painfully brief kiss, but it is enough to light Kevin’s stomach on fire. “Whoa,” Joaquin lets out in a soft chuckle. “You’re sloshed, aren’t you?”

“A little bit,” Kevin giggles, locking Joaquin in an embrace with his arms thrown around the Serpent’s neck. “Kiss me.”

A light hint of hesitancy crosses Joaquin’s expression. “Are you sure you want to do this while you’re off your face?”

“Can you say something more romantic about my face?”

“Hmm. I like it. It’s very beautiful.”

“Very romantic.” Kevin silences Joaquin with a kiss, which demonstrates a seamless transition between sangfroid and desperation. Burying his hands in Joaquin’s silky, long hair, Kevin lets out a throaty moan when Joaquin suckles his lower lip, gently nipping it before securing it between his teeth. “Unh,” Kevin lets out as Joaquin tugs at the lip. Kevin runs his tongue along the throbbing, swollen lip, yanking Joaquin down for another deep kiss. The heat between their mouths is more akin to a well-choreographed erotic dance than a sloppy duel. His hands slide down Joaquin’s hard chest and clumsily grabs onto Joaquin’s belt buckle.

If he weren’t so jaded, he would have screamed out a disapproval when Joaquin breaks the kiss with a thin line of saliva connecting their lips. “Kevin,” Joaquin exhales a mild protest, cupping a side of Kevin’s face, lowering his gaze to Kevin’s tender lips.

“What now?” Kevin huffs with exasperation.

“We shouldn’t do this.”

A scowl crinkles the bridge of Kevin’s nose. “Fuck me,” he spits as a command. Joaquin meets his furious, exhausted gaze with a reluctant look.

“What?”

Kevin fists Joaquin’s shirt in a bunch. “Fuck me, Joaquin.”

Joaquin harrumphs in defeat. “You’re too drunk, Kevin. You should go to sleep.”

“Why do you keep doing this, Joaquin?” Kevin demands, propping himself up on his elbows. “What are we?” he blurts out.

Joaquin blinks in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“What are we? Do I mean something to you or am I just a pointless avocation for you to bide the time?” the words come out harsher than intended.

“Kevin, you’re not in your right mind. I should leave.” He starts to retreat from the bed, but Kevin holds him in place by clutching his shirt collar.

“Don’t you fucking dare. Answer the question, Joaquin. Do I mean anything to you? Because I’m starting to fall for you and I don’t want to be the one looking like an idiot in the end,” he pants, blinking the tears in his eyes away.

Joaquin frowns. “Of course, Kevin,” he says after a pause and a deep intake of breath. “I… I feel something for you, too. Which is why I don’t want to rush these things. I want to… take it slow with you.”

Kevin does not have to be sober to understand that he is lying. But he heard what he wanted to hear and that is enough. This might not last, it probably won’t, but for tonight, it is enough.

He does not fight Joaquin when the guy gently pushes him to lie down. “You need to sleep,” Joaquin says, tucking Kevin under the covers.

“Wait, no. Don’t go,” Kevin mumbles drowsily, grabbing onto Joaquin’s forearm.

“I’m not going. But you have to go to sleep,” Joaquin whispers and presses a kiss to Kevin’s cheek.

“You know, I had a completely different idea of what we’d be doing tonight,” Kevin sighs as Joaquin settles on the mattress beside him.

“Care to elaborate?” he chimes with a playful smirk playing on his smug face.

“Nah. It would take all the fun away, then.” He curls against Joaquin’s chest.

Joaquin smoothens locks of Kevin’s hair with his calloused fingers. “Why do you even like me, Kevin? I mean, I’m not the only fish in the ocean. And we both know you can certainly do better than a piece of crap like me.”

“Don’t do that,” Kevin murmurs against Joaquin’s collarbones. “Don’t do the whole ‘ _I don’t deserve you’_ thing. You’re not a roll of trash stuck up a bear’s butt.”

“Charming imagery, Kev,” Joaquin scoffs. “I didn’t say that. But you can definitely do better.”

“Yeah, probably,” he sighs with exhaustion. He loves the fresh, earthy smell of Joaquin’s skin and his musky aftershave. It could lull him to sleep in a heartbeat if he weren’t trying so hard to keep sleep at bay. He wants this moment to last a little longer. “But I like you. So, deal with it.”

Joaquin falls silent, his breathing ragged and uneven as usual.


	3. Chapter 3

“We’re all gonna die,” Kevin declares when he surveys the spine-chilling snakes, losing heart little by little. He feels suffocated in here, though he tries to hold onto his composure. Besides, Joaquin is here. He wouldn’t let Kevin get hurt, would he?

“Relax,” Joaquin purrs when he returns with a couple of cue sticks. He holds one out to Kevin with his trademark smug smirk playing on his lips. “Are you any good?”

Kevin relaxes a little. “Are _you_?”

Joaquin scoffs, edging dangerously close. Kevin accepts the cue stick and presses a hand to Joaquin’s chest to create some distance. He certainly does not need to attract more attention in here. “How about a friendly bet?” Joaquin murmurs and usually, the tone would have set Kevin alight, but the situation is a huge turn-off.

“Nothing about this place is friendly,” Kevin mutters under his breath as he follows Joaquin to the pool table.

“Ten bucks?”

“You’re on,” he says in a low voice, still keeping a weather eye out for someone to pounce on him at any moment now. Moose seems agitated as well. Archie, on the other hand, looks like he is ready for a fight, which Kevin thinks is kind of dumb now that he is actually in here, encircled by countless Serpents.

It’s ironic, really. Kevin thought he might get used to them since he and Joaquin are now dating, but the fact is that they are from two completely different worlds, and it is proving to be more difficult to accept the world Joaquin comes from that he had initially anticipated. He sees why Joaquin has his doubts, too.

“Pay up,” Joaquin says after winning the round. Kevin sighs and fishes his wallet out.

“I’m gonna get this back, right?”

Joaquin flashes a mischievous lopsided grin. “You wish, _preppy_ ,” he scoffs, dropping his soft gaze to Kevin’s lips just for a beat.

Kevin’s attention is averted to Archie, who waltz up to a man and _heys_ him, clasping the man’s shoulder with a hand. “Oh, God,” he exhales shakily and hurries over to Archie to stop him before he does something stupid that could get them all killed.

“What, you got a death wish?” the Serpent spits, turning around to pin Archie with a threatening glare.

“Archie, back off,” Joaquin urges him, only to be snubbed by the redhead.

“What the hell is this?” the Serpent growls.

“You like beating up teenagers?” Archie says, his tone glossing with venom.

“This ain’t the first time one of you Bulldogs have come in here looking to cause trouble,” he lunges at Archie and shoves him back. It spirals into a shitstorm thereafter as Kevin staggers back when pairs of arms curl around his body to yank him back. Kevin struggles to break free while Moose and Archie retaliate before the Serpent slams Archie on the pool table, a fist raised and ready to bludgeon Archie’s face. Kevin gasps for air, his blood pounding in his ears.

“Hey! That’s enough, Mustang,” a roaring order freezes the scene. “Let ‘em go.”

Kevin finally manages to breathe again when he and his friends are released.

 

~*~

 

“Jesus Christ,” Kevin pants, wiping the sweat beads off his forehead as he meanders his way back home with Moose tagging along. “Are you not going home?” he asks the buffer man, glancing to Moose’s bruising face.

“I am,” Moose mutters nonchalantly, sticking his hands in his jacket’s pockets.

“You should get that looked at, by the way.”

Shrugging, Moose musters a small smile. “So… who’s that guy?”

“Who are you… talking about?”

“Joaquin. The Serpent.”

Kevin swallows. “Not really your business.”

Moose lets out a sigh. “Are you mad at me?”

“No. Why would I be mad at you? _I_ rejected _you_ , remember?” he kicks a pebble on the road, drawing in a cold breath.

“I… Uh, are you sure you don’t want to give us another shot?”

Kevin stops dead in his tracks to fix Moose with a ridiculous look. “What _us_ , what _shot_ , Mason? You and I are not _us_ , never have been. You propositioned me one time and yeah, we almost did something, but finding a dead body in the woods turned out to be a total turn-off. That’s it, Moose. Nothing else. I don’t do anything more than that with closeted jocks.”

Moose swallows and Kevin sighs.

“Look. I’m tired of hook-ups and sloppy minutes,” Kevin admits in a calmer tone. “I’m tired of being used for other people’s own pleasure and agendas. Yeah, you’re hot and in any other circumstance, I might have liked to fool around with you. But I like someone else now. And you should probably just stick to girls.”

“Okay, Keller,” Moose says. “Fine. Whatever. Keep flattering yourself that you’re more than just a booty call.” He shoves past Kevin without another word.

When he returns home, he does not bother to turn the lights on as he saunters inside. “Dad?” he yawps, but receives no reply. Exhaling a heavy breath, he wends his way upstairs. What a day it has been… Well, there never is a dull day in Riverdale, is there?

He should call it a night and get his head down, but he still has some homework to do. Changing into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, he flumps at his desk to work on the school project due tomorrow.

Moose is wrong, he thinks with his attention applied on everything but the schoolwork. He puts the pen down and lays his head on the desk. He is not just a booty call. Maybe he _had been_ , but now there is Joaquin, who likes him for who he is. Enveloping his head with his arms, he lets himself drift off to sleep.

His eyes fling open when he hears a tap on the window. “What are you doing here?” he rasps, lifting the window open. Joaquin grins and leans in to peck on Kevin’s lips before climbing into the room. “My dad’s not home. You could have just come through the front door.”

“I didn’t know that,” Joaquin says like it is a matter of fact.

Kevin takes his seat on the corner of the desk and crosses his arms over his chest, lowering his gaze while worrying his lower lip.

“What?” Joaquin asks after a minute of silence. “What’s wrong?”

Kevin looks up at him and stares at Joaquin’s easy eyes for a moment. “Who said something’s wrong?”

“You look… worried.”

“Well, I almost got my neck wrung tonight. You can understand.”

Joaquin latches his hands on the sides of Kevin’s waist and pulls him close. “You really think I would have let anyone hurt you?” Joaquin says in a low breath, raising a hand to cup Kevin’s cheek.

Leaning into the touch, Kevin musters the vacillation and lack of his usual enthusiasm in Joaquin’s mesmerizing eyes. “Joaquin?”

“Hmm?” he drones unconsciously, blinking with vacancy.

Kevin splays a hand over Joaquin’s chest and brushes their lips together. Joaquin is always careful when he’s kissing Kevin. His lips and tongue, experimental and cautious. His breath, steady and composed. It feels as though he savours Kevin’s lips, like sipping and relishing every drop of a really rare wine that slowly intoxicates him, sending his blood pulsing. “I like you, Joaquin,” Kevin breathes into the kiss.

“Wh-what?” Joaquin says, blinking with something like astonishment and confusion.

“Don’t make me say it again,” Kevin murmurs, hanging his head as blood rushes to his cheeks. It is so uncharacteristic of him to feel embarrassed or shy, but it almost feels like he is never himself with Joaquin. Or he’s truly himself only with Joaquin. He lets Joaquin see the layers beneath, he lets himself be vulnerable to him.

“No, no. Say it again,” Joaquin lets out, leaning in close enough that Kevin’s could feel the heat of his breath on his lips.

“I… like you.”

Swallowing hard, Joaquin stares into his eyes for a moment, as though he is lost in his own conflicted thoughts, before he pulls away completely. “I have to run,” he blurts out and starts climbing out the window.

“What?”

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”


	4. Chapter 4

“Wait, wait,” Kevin huffs, having run out of breath. Even at his plea, Joaquin refuses to give him a moment of respite as he reclaims Kevin’s throbbing, swollen lips. Blood pulses in his temples and stirs in his loins. Plopping Kevin onto the bed, Joaquin mounts him, straddling Kevin’s hips. He slips a hand under Kevin’s head and fists his hair in a firm grip while his tongue delves into Kevin’s hungry mouth.

Fighting for air in the thirsting kiss, Kevin slides his eager hands into Joaquin’s t-shirt and enjoys the heat of his boyfriend’s hard heaving abdominal muscles against his palms before yanking the t-shirt off. The momentary break allows him to gasp mouthfuls of air, but Joaquin quickly crushes Kevin’s lips under his own once more. The taste of cheap beer on Joaquin’s lips is both intoxicating and inviting.

An involuntary moan escapes Kevin when Joaquin sinks his teeth into his lower lip and tugs at it. Joaquin breaks the kiss to smirk down at his boyfriend. “You might want to keep quiet if you don’t want your dad to walk in on us while we’re in this very compromising position,” he mutters, panting heavily.

Kevin groans and shoves Joaquin to the bed before climbing atop him. “You probably shouldn’t tease a man this much,” he murmurs against Joaquin’s lips and straightens up to pull his shirt off. With his knees planted firmly into the mattress on either side of Joaquin’s hips, he lowers to sit on Joaquin’s stomach. His breath hitches when he feels Joaquin’s erection press up his ass.

Joaquin licks his lips, his limpid blue eyes gazing up and down Kevin’s body. Then latching his hands the sides of Kevin’s burning torso, he pulls himself up and presses a gentle, but firm kiss to the sternum of Kevin’s chest before dragging his lips all the way up to Kevin’s collarbones. Peppering them with hot, wet kisses, he traces the vein on Kevin’s neck with his tongue. A shudder runs down Kevin’s spine as he buries his hands in Joaquin’s silky hair, letting out short, raspy moans as Joaquin sucks a spot on his neck. God, that would leave a mark, but right now, Kevin wouldn’t care if Joaquin were to ravage him into the bed.

Joaquin’s feverish hands snake to Kevin’s back while his lips continue to attack Kevin’s neck with an onslaught of heaty kisses. “Jesus,” Kevin moans, softly grinding his hips against Joaquin’s.

It has been a crazy night. Crazy would be an understatement. Jughead’s birthday party was a colossal fuckup. Everything was just so… weird. Veronica is going through something with her father and the Blossoms again. Archie was so out of his game tonight as well. And Betty… Well, Kevin supposes everyone is going through some shit at the moment. Except him. To be honest, things couldn’t be more perfect for him. He had felt so comfortable introducing Joaquin as his boyfriend to everyone. His _boyfriend_. Among all the dramas and tension, he seems to be the only one having it all easy. It almost feels … too good to be true.

It was an overall crazy night, yes. But what Kevin can’t seem to look past is FP at the party and the way Joaquin behaved after he had beaten a brief retreat with FP.

“What’s wrong?” Joaquin asks, noticing that Kevin has gone entertaining his own thoughts in a flap.

“Huh?”

“What are you thinking about?” his boyfriend says with a frown.

“Jughead’s father,” Kevin mutters, locking his arms around Joaquin’s neck.

The frown on Joaquin’s dark brows tautens. “You’re… thinking about _Jughead’s father_ right now, when we’re—”

“No, no, no,” Kevin protests quickly and lets out a soft chuckle. “Well, FP’s pretty much a hot DILF, but he’s got nothing on you.”

Joaquin doesn’t find that amusing. He continues to gurn miserably. Kevin bites his tongue as a punishment and lays a soft kiss on Joaquin’s lips. “Kevin,” he breathes, caressing the sides of Kevin’s waist. “Do you… trust me?”

It is Kevin’s turn to frown as he withdraws and blinks at his boyfriend in a muddle. “What sort of question is that? Of course.”

He couldn’t read Joaquin’s indecipherable expression. “Why… were you thinking about FP?”

Kevin regrets having said that. Now, they’re not making out and rutting into the night like a couple of horny animals. Now, they must have a conversation he isn’t sure he wants to have. “I was just wondering,” he says. “if you and FP are… close.”

“He’s like a father to me, if that’s what you’re wondering. Unlike you, I don’t have too many dirty fantasies.”

Kevin snorts out a laugh. “I swear, I only have dirty fantasies with you in it. It’s just that… He seemed really… disappointed with you tonight.”

Joaquin lowers his head, worrying his already tender lip. “It’s…” he trails off and pauses for a moment. Then sighing with an insincere smile, he says, “You know what? Let’s not talk about it.”

“Agreed,” Kevin purrs and rises a little, grabbing a handful of Joaquin’s hair before smashing their mouths together. Joaquin’s ragged breathing grazes Kevin’s face as Joaquin fumbles with Kevin’s belt buckle. There is a hesitancy in Joaquin’s kisses that wasn’t there before.

His hands freeze on the fly of Kevin’s pants before he pulls back from the kiss with a heavy sigh. “Do we have to do this tonight?” he asks under his breath.

Kevin tries not to frown, but he couldn’t help it. “What’s wrong with tonight?”

Joaquin smirks. “I could list down a few.”

Kevin huffs out a breath in exasperation and gets off Joaquin. “But why? You didn’t seem to be having second thoughts until a moment ago when I… mentioned FP,” he harrumphs, moving to the edge of the bed.

“All your friends seem to be in a pickle,” he says, carefully dodging Kevin’s question as always. “You won’t get to see that much tension even in the Whyte Wyrm.”

The topic is sudden, Kevin notices. But he decides to play along. The last thing he wants right now is an argument with Joaquin over blue balls. “Yeah,” he mumbles, reclining on the bed beside Joaquin.

“You’re close with Veronica Lodge, yes?”

Kevin arches an eyebrow, staring fixedly at Joaquin’s icy curious eyes. “Kind of. It’s more like a partnership based on mutual interests, such as cool parties, hot jocks and having irresistible secrets from the bad side of town.”

 “I’m no cool party, no hot jock, so I must be the irresistible secret from the bad side of town,” he mumbles with his fingertips skimming the thin trail of hair beneath Kevin’s navel.

“Guilty as charged,” Kevin whispers and steals another kiss from his boyfriend.

“What’s… up with her, anyway?”

“Who? Veronica?” Kevin asks, blinking vacantly. “Why the curiosity? Why are we even talking about her right now when we could be doing a million other things on this bed, in this dark?”

“I’m just making conversation.”

“I’d rather we were making something else.” He draws a hand along Joaquin’s toned chest and curls it around his neck.

Joaquin’s fingers grip Kevin’s hip with a feral urge as their lips clash in a battle of passion and lust. At moments like this, Joaquin is holding nothing back. He gives it all and he knows how to take it all from Kevin, too. At moments like this, Joaquin loves him with everything he has.

But then he stops, as though continuing any further would bring nothing but harm to Kevin. Or perhaps to himself.

Kevin lets out a shaky moan into Joaquin’s mouth as Joaquin’s fingers glide down his tailbone and past the waistband of his boxers. Joaquin’s body arches into his when Kevin slides a knee between his thighs to press against his protruding hardness.

The heat of Joaquin’s lips disappears once again, driving Kevin to the edge of madness. Joaquin retreats with a start as his phone buzzes on the bedside table. He picks it up and reads a text message.

“Who is it?” Kevin asks.

“FP,” Joaquin mutters and sucks in a deep breath. “I have to go.”

“Of course, you do,” Kevin says under his breath and sinks back into the mattress, throwing an arm over his forehead as Joaquin pulls his t-shirt and jacket on. He cards his hands through his mussed hair and leans over the bed to peck on Kevin’s lips.

 “One of these days, I’m gonna die from blue balls because of you,” Kevin scoffs and gives Joaquin’s reddened lips another forceful kiss before letting his boyfriend go.

“Sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Promise,” Joaquin says with a smirk and climbs out the window.


End file.
